By changing the numbers from 1 to 4 in the url you can see 4 lectures of the late master Chepukaitis.

-- Genrikh Chepukaitis

< "You need not play well - just help your opponent to play badly." >

We always knew George the Genius got by on Daddy and Grandpa's coattails.

An obvious case of education gone to waste.

<keypusher: The future Mrs. Keypusher, upon seeing a copy of George Botterill's <Open Gambits>: "Uh, is that a book of pick-up lines?">

ROFL

<wordfunph: Genrikh Chepukaitis was a 2200 player but a really good blitz player from the Soviet Union. He had a rivalry with Korchnoi. He won the St. Petersburg Blitz Championship 5 times and Korchnoi 7 times. He regularly beat Tal at Blitz; that's how good he was. One day, Tal invited Chepukaitis to his room for some blitz matches and Genrikh obliged. When he got there, he met an older man who told him Tal was out but he could warm him up until Tal got back. Chepukaitis thought this was Tal's uncle. Then the older man proceeded to wipe out Genrikh in one game after another. Turns out the older man was Rashid Nezhmitzinov.>

This anecdote appears in Sosonko's "Smart Chip from St. Petersburg."

However, it also appears- with different details- in chess cafe here

http://www.chesscafe.com/text/skitt...

And yet another version, with a new set of details, here

http://lanternascacchi.wordpress.co...

<You need not play well - just help your opponent to play badly.>

-- Genrikh Chepukaitis

--- Genrikh Chepukaitis

< "You need not play well - just help your opponent to play badly." >

-Genrikh Chepukaitis

The aformentioned "Smart chip" contains a few passages about his/others inner workings (as seen from a spectator's point), e.g.

'.. He had numerous acquaintances, chess and card players, blitz partners, drinking buddies, those who knew him simply as Chip, but he didn't have any close friends. In company he told his funny stories incessantly and for the better part of his life he had his favourite, well-worn records. Even as a young man he had had a tendency towards long monologues, and as the years passed he became even more verbose. An endless stream of words flowed out of him, and socialising with him wasn't easy; actually, he needed a listener more than he needed a conversation partner. There was chess in his flood of words, but mainly there was him, he himself, the untitled and unrecognized, who in fact was great and legendary. The reaction came later. His wife Tanya recalls that their home life was already suffering. He was immersed in his own world, in his thoughts, and he was often withdrawn and taciturn. With him - so unpretentious in his food and clothes - domestic life wasn't easy: he demanded constant attention, because he was genuinely focused only on himself. He read everything he could get his hands on, mainly contenting himself with light stuff - newspapers and glossy magazines, the flow of information that catches the eye but doesn't detain you, draining away without any consequences for the soul. But if he happened on them, he would also read history books, literary fiction and thrillers. He never owned any chess books himself, but after his wife moved to Petersburg he read her chess books with interest.

..

To a psychologist, this need for self-affirmation and for proving his own superiority would probably be clear evidence of compensation for non-recognition of his contributions as an individual, real or imagined. After all, central to the game is the hunger to surpass others, to become the winner and in that role to receive honours. ..'

from
'Smart Chip from St.Petersburg and other tales of a bygone chess era', Gennadi Sosonko, New In Chess Alkmaar, 2006